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Hey guys, can we all take a deep breath and please remind ourselves that Cassandra Clare is the author, the books she's writing is her's and all the characters are also yk, her's and that she can write it however she wants and whatever she wants with characters-
Y'all can criticize the book, but i don't think you can really tell her how to or what to write
Said with much love <3
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Hey y'all this is her sister and just so y'all know we're having a ball laughing at all these grown adults sending her death threats over a ship and the weird age gap stuff she writes
*fic writer sister says smth diabolical describing tomarrymort*
...nvm you keep hating on her she Arab too call her a mountain goat sand- she keeps fighting me for her phone back too 😭
I get so much joy from this fandom, but there are just these people that can never let anyone else have anything nice without making It known about how much they hate it and it sucks the joy out of anything.
Let other people have good things without making it all about you for once, my god.
"Shipping siblings together is gross! Even if they're fictional!"
Tell George Raymond Richard Martin that!
"A girl child - "
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I've made the same post a billion times before but it will never not bother me when you have someone who will gladly say "it's just fiction" only up until it's something made by a shit person. Newsflash: using anti rhetoric against a piece of fiction still makes you an anti! even if the creator is a terrible person!
I am absolutely in support of criticizing Vivziepop for the things she's done to REAL people, but I will NEVER support weaponizing anti rhetoric against the show itself, because again, that makes you an anti.
How are you going to acknowledge that fiction is okay when it comes to the "serious" stuff like lolicon, shotacon, cub, feral, etc. and then cry in outrage when, for example, Viv says she found the part where Loona kicks the baby to be funny?
"OMFG THAT'S SO TERRIBLE THAT'S NOT FUNNY. KICKING BABIES ISN'T FUNNY!"
friend. pal. I shouldn't have to remind you.
That is a fictional baby. No real babies got kicked in the making of that episode. You can relax.
i doubt anyone cares but here's another snippet from my angsty mako fic that will hopefully one day be written. anyways here's mako watching his parents get murdered :)
Your firebending was weak. Pathetic. It hurt to use, and you hated it. Hated the way you couldn’t stop thinking about the flames engulfing your father as he screamed and screamed and screamed. The way his skin blackened and charred and your mother could do nothing as she too burned. She had hardly ever used her bending for more than cooking and lighting the candles and hearth at home. What could she do against a real firebender? You stood there and watched, crouched silent behind the crates, with the heat of the flames licking your skin, as your parents screamed and burned. You hated yourself for your terror, for your helplessness. Eventually, when they stopped struggling, the firebender took their things and left. At first, you stayed behind the crates, eyes closed, hands over your ears, too terrified to move. What if the firebender came back, what if he got you? The smell of burnt flesh reeked and you tried to block it out, tried to shut out your mother and father’s screaming and moaning. You never knew how long you were cowering behind the crates. But eventually you crawled out, towards your mother. Your father had stopped moving. You caught a glimpse of his face, and the sight will never leave you. Blackened, charred flesh, no features, no discernable face, just a mound of charred meat. Your mother was moaning and writhing weakly on the ground. She didn’t recognize you when you touched her, just moaned in agony. Mama, you cried. Mama I’m scared. The guttural sounds of her cries never left you. You still hear them in your dreams, even now. Half her face was gone. You focused on the half that was still there, bright red and blistered, oozing. You hadn’t bent for a long time. Every time you tried to summon a flame, you would see him, see them writhing on the ground screaming as they burned.
